The Original Down Home Critic

On The Help, Viola Davis, And “Black Art” Vs. “Negro Respectability”

Tomorrow night, the Oscars take place, and film adaptation of The Help is expected to sweep the Oscars. I’ve already written about what I think about The Help, a movie I had hoped would go quietly into that good night. Instead, it’s ignited many debates about the lack of roles for Black actresses, Black art, and once again, class in the Black community, even if no one wants to call it “class.”

I don’t dispute that, if things are tough for light- and medium-brown-skinned African American actresses in Hollywood, they are terrible for darker-skinned sisters, for colorism is still alive and dropping its stinking poop all through American society.

I know that things are tough for Viola Davis to get a role. You’re not going to hear me disagree with that. But I am going to say that, “I can’t get a role” really translates into “I’m having a hard time paying my bills.” And so, those of us Black folks who have loudly criticized The Help have been cast as Bourgie Villains who stand between a Sister and her money.

And that’s not all. Not only do we Bourgie Villains want to keep a Sister from paying bills, we’re also embarrassed by her playing a maid on screen.

And that’s where I get mad.

See, my mama worked as a nanny back in college during the summers. And further, my granny–her mother–worked as a maid. And I took a job as a nanny once in college as well, but after I discovered that the White lady who hired me not only wanted me to see about her child but also, clean her 4000 square foot home (which was under construction and producing sawdust every ten minutes) while the little girl was sleeping, and I refused to do all that for five dollars an hour, I got fired. This is a true story.

And of course, inherent in those remixed “Politics of Respectability” notions were the following: marriage is good; homosexuality is bad (if even acknowledged); patriarchy—the man as head of the family, etc.— is good; higher education is required; and above all, Negroes must exhibit gentile behavior that does not “transgress” the social norms at that time for upwardly mobile behavior. And they had to do all that while wearing tailored, tweed suits.

Booker T. Washington, on the other hand, was the Black Working Class champion. In my opinion, his views evidenced a different, “red dirt” form of Negro Respectability, one that was about the survival of Black folks who didn’t have access to higher education and so, they couldn’t dress up in tweed suits and teach at Historically Black Colleges.

Publicly, Washington was an apologist for segregation and cautioned Black political patience and Black hard work; he did not believe in pushing for racial equality. His famous “Atlanta Compromise” speechset off the first Official Black Beef in the history of America—between W.E.B. DuBois and Washington—and from that point, it was on between the Black Working Class and the Black Middle Class/Black Bourgeoisie.

Depending upon whom you ask, one of these Brothers emerged victorious. Of course, DuBois won the intellectual battle. There is still plenty of shade thrown Washington’s way by African American scholars and academics, but Down South when I grew up, plenty working class Black mothers were still giving their male children “Booker T” for their two first names, too. That ought to tell you something right there, so really, it’s a tie.

There were contradictions in both men. W.E.B. DuBois was all for Negro Respectability to the point where he “fudged” parts of his early life when writing about them. Now, it’s clear that he was not heir to a great family legacy, but rather born in very humble circumstances, essentially fatherless and raised in a 19th century version of the “hood.”

Though publicly, Booker T. Washington was about digging in field dirt and skinning and grinning to white racists, the man built an institution of higher learning for the descendants of slaves—Tuskegee Institute which still stands today, now Tuskegee University—in the middle of racially terrorist Alabama, and unknown to his White benefactors, he was testing segregation laws in the court through his lawyers.

And so, things have never been clear about class in Black America and where Black folks stand. For example, I’m conservative when it comes to certain things—like public language, public dress, belief in God, and manners—and very radical when it comes to others—like feminism, sex, anti-homophobia, kindness, and art.

Sidebar: Yes, I said, “Sex.” But what I mean by “sex” is none of your business. That’s my conservative side coming back out.

As an artist—a writer—who has violated the “politics of respectability” in the service of my own art, I’m all for transgressing acceptable notions of behavior. I’ve talked about being a domestic violence survivor. I’ve talked about being a rape survivor. Heck, I even named my own father as my molester in print, much to my mother’s and family’s chagrin.

If anyone knows what it feels like to transgress acceptable behavior, I do.

Yet, my transgressions have occurred for a reason, and not to dissolve or exhibit my own pain. I had counseling for the pain. I write about my pain in my art not to examine the different kinds of lint in my own belly button, but to hopefully connect and heal a new generation of women, like Audre Lorde, June Jordan, Sonia Sanchez and Lucille Clifton did for me.

But transgression in art should be in service of something important and higher. Not in service of your financial hustle. Or in service of your ego. Or even, in service of the problems you had with your daddy who you still love like nobody knows and understands (even you). If not, all you are accomplishing with your transgression is enacting a public tantrum and running with scissors.

So what does this all have to do with Viola Davis and The Help?

As a middle class/Black bourgeoisie African American woman, I would love to see more depictions of Black people like me on the silver screen, depictions that don’t make fun of or demonize Black middle class people, as we are wont to witness these days a la Tyler Perry.

For example, it would have been nice to have seen one Black man in The Help who stood up for a Black woman instead only a Brother like Minny’s abusive husband, or another who left Abilene to fend for herself in the middle of the street during a burgeoning race riot.

I grew up with working class Black men who would die for the dignity and honor of a Black woman, like my uncles. I believe my mother’s story of the time that a White man came to the house one day and cursed in front of my grandmother. When he wouldn’t apologize, my papa Charlie told his son to get his gun. This was in the late 1940s when such an act in central Georgia could get him and possibly his entire family killed. And by the way, that White man got in his car and drove on home.

And I saw working class Black women, like my granny, who would cuss somebody like a sailor if they pissed her off, but only Monday through Saturday. (She was the cusser in the family, not Grandpa Charlie.) On Sunday, she was a dressed up, do-right acting, child of God.

But yes, I saw some in the outside community—who shall remain nameless—who would beat a woman in the middle of the street and mothers who abandoned their children to go Up North. I’ve seen much. I’d like to see that same “much” in films about working class Black people. I’d like to see some complexity.

I’m not upset with a “Black maid movie.” I’ve seen a few I’ve loved, including A Long Walk Home starring Sissy Spacek and Whoopi Goldberg. But that movie featured a Black woman who had a rich life outside of her White folk’s kitchens. The Help does not. And I do not believe that Viola Davis, a Black woman born in the early 1960s who is classically trained at Julliard, can believe what she said at the NAACP Image Awards, that Kathryn Stockett (the author of the book the movie is based on) told “the truth.” Or that she wrote “art.”

Child, please.

What bothers me most, is that Viola Davis is singing that well-worn spiritual of “I’m A Black Artist And I Have A Right To Work” in order to shut down criticism of her acting in The Help, like with Tavis Smiley on his show. And now, her “artistic choices” are being defended as transgressing Black Middle-Class values by others, instead of keeping on the real question.

And I’ll ask it: Why is it that we Black folks must keep seeing these flat, one-dimensional depictions of Black people–supposedly ourselves– in the movies? Is this really the best Hollywood can do?

Sure, I enjoy having a reasonably good FICO score as much as the next Sister. But it’s not that I need to see heroes or doctors or lawyers or Tuskegee Airmen as opposed to drug dealers or absent fathers or crack addicted sex-workers–or maids.

No, what I need is to see some real Black folks and real stories–whomever is on the screen.

Sidebar: And while we’re at talking about what I need, I could do without that sweeping, emotionally manipulative soundtrack that reminds me of the Fisk Jubilee Singers in concert whenever I see Black folks on screen, too. Geez Louise in Heaven.

I’m not trying to knock Viola Davis’s hustle, but in the final analysis, it is a hustle. Or maybe, in the final analysis, it’s not a hustle, depending on which Black person in whichever socio-economic class that you ask.

But you cannot tell me in the ultimate final analysis that The Help is complex, good Black art simply because a complex Black artist acted in it. Sometimes, complex artists of whatever complexion make bad art. (I know I have.) And you cannot tell me that The Help is the best movie that any filmmaker, Black or White, could have made on working class Black life.

A thoughtful piece with the bottom line for me is that we are not a monolithic group of people and that there are variations within both classes. The working poor and the so-called middle and upper crust black folks overlapped in key areas. There were many in my neighborhood who were working class and had middle class or mainstream values and there was a continuum. I remember Dr. Jordon whose home was in the neighborhood and he made home visits. There were black professionals who attended the Baptist church and sat side by side with the working class and participated in the various meetings, the choir and community outreach projects. I lived in the upstate western region of New York and our environments and the way we viewed life via religion, politics and social were multifaceted–to say the least.

With time and integration in the north as well as the south-our communities are more defined now and separated with a burgeoning class division that would be shocking to the adults of my young years. This labeled “underclass” confounds us and is frankly overwhelming–thus further estrangement. We’ve got enough to deal with now without the nostalgic reruns of the past …like “The Help”. I think about what reportedly, Hattie McDaniels who was a civic leader in her own right and whose personal life didn’t reflect her roles-said to Lena Horne. She had invited the latter over to her beautiful home for tea to discuss the flak regarding Ms. Horne’s refusal to play maid roles. To Ms. Horne’s surprise Ms. McDaniels was quite supportive of her stance and further stated in the final analysis she would rather ‘play a maid’ instead of being one. (not a direct quote)

I’d like to add Marcus Garvey in the above mix–for I’ve had some heated debates with a childhood friend who is an academic now regarding the triad. Marcus Garvey fought against dependency and encouraged black folks to build their own institutions and businesses and broke with Dr. Dubois on the colorism and elitism issues. For he saw the same color strata that was played out in mainstream society among the black elite and “talented tenth” towards the working class and the poor. It was quite ironic that Dr. Dubois made fun of Mr. Garvey especially about the back to Africa movement or the empowerment of black people to be self-sufficient wherever they lived and at the end, the former moved to Ghana and resided there until his death.

‘The Help” and all the pros and cons regarding this movie and the actresses involved have again disturbed the scabs that formed from the past and with ambivalent feelings…I won’t view the Academy Awards. They are generally boring to me and frankly I don’t want to see the tears, running noses and deferential ramblings of either one of the actresses should they win. I’ve viewed that already when they were afforded other awards for their roles. Peace, love and blessings to them and in my mind we just have to agree to disagree on this one and move on.

Dear Miss Honoree, I hope to say this correctly, but what I think I am hearing is that there are ways of getting jobs, acting is after all just a job, with out selling your soul. Sometimes when I see Miss Whoopie take a silly role, I realize that although she is a magnificent actress, she is taking what is available to her, which is a shame, although I notice she takes these roles quietly. (I am not taking about the View) There is a fine line you cross, African American, White, Native American, Hispanic, Asian as to whether you are going to take the role for the money or still keep your dignity. Of course, the role was Viola Davis’s choice, and not my business to say a thing, but I think I know what you are talking about, and it is a matter of working but still being proud of yourself. Years ago a White actress in Hollywood turned down a role that she had signed on for because she felt the role was – I will politely just say undignified! She was sued and lost, but to me, I thought, how proud she should be of herself not to sell her soul. Love, Barbara

I know that several of my black author friends agree with you on this. In support of them, I chose not to see the movie “The Help”.
I’m very interested in where your opinions will lie with the newly released book The Healing by Jonathan O’Dell. I had read enough before it was out to know that he did extensive research and it was not done in the underhanded way that Stockett did hers.

As a writer, what I want to see, above all, is complexity, and characters who are real and dynamic (the main characters, anyway), especially Black characters, who have for so long been stereotypes of one kind or another. That movie fell flat for me, and I didn’t quite know why, but you articulated it perfectly. Ultimately we’re getting far too many books and films about Black characters written or endorsed by whites, or seen through the lens of a (typically liberal and “well-meaning”) white narrator, that make it to Hollywood precisely because (unconsciously, probably, but sometimes quite consciously) they reinforce stereotypes, and then white men like me enjoy them because we don’t have to think too hard about “the Negro problem.” (After all, it’s just a matter of “uplift,” right?) As Ms. Moon says, there is no monolithic way of portraying Black Americans, or (I would add) any other people for that matter, so we might as well shoot for complexity and truth no matter what race or class or gender. But since we’ve had plenty of that with white characters, and but a paltry selection of that with Black characters, a post like yours, Honoree, feels necessary. Perhaps someday–my God, I’ve been saying this for decades now–there will be such a wide variety of bestsellers and films featuring Black characters that all variations and complexities of character will be end up being represented, as is the case now with white characters; but until then, this case needs to be made.

Haha. I never thought about it before, but you are right. Much of Tyler Perry’s work does portray middle class black folk negatively. The good men in his films are often emasculated too, and I find that tiresome, but I still enjoy watching his films. I think that it’s perfectly okay that there’s a variety of perspectives and voices out there being creative, even when I don’t agree with them.

I heard a Viola Davis interview and she sounds thoughtful, insisted she was attracted to the role because it was a complex character. it wasn’t enough to make me believe i needed to see the movie or read the book as I had my own real life cinema experience of the help. A stepmother hired women to take care of the house mostly and supervise us kids. Being the youngest and having been motherless I clung to anyone that showed the least bit of attention. Bernice was not only a surrogate mom, but a mentor. From her I got not just hugs, but scoldings for being plain wrong, talkings to for being thoughtless, silence when I was selfish, and conversations about class and life. Still stupid at 13, I brought home a black panther newspaper for her. A sib snitched which got Bernice fired for being “scary” and “uppity”. She was a full, articulate, and complicated person that I knew did not share very much about herself with me yet gave me enough of herself to make me a better person. She kept it real. She wasn’t a mystery so much as she had many layers. And I know there is no movie that is going to live up to Bernice.
I don’t care what roles people take on as long as they don’t consider themselves role models and as long as they can take the criticism and disappointment for not being an appreciated role model. And as long as we have a chorus of diverse voices of thoughtful responses I’m OK with others’ violating the politics of responsibility – I just try to be responsible in my choices of who and what to support.
Thanks for your writing. Thanks for sharing your writing. Keep ‘em coming.

And it gets even uglier: What are we to make of it, when Viola’s role is hailed from every mountaintop and rooftop and from the top of Hollyweird Hill (where the sign is)
THEN… [da da daaaa (for dramatic effect)] She LOSES!

Hello Miss Jeffers! You have probably heard of Faye Anderson and the Cost of Freedom Project – she’s trying to get an APP developed to facilitate voters having the proper ID when they go to vote. Its a tactic to disenfranchise poor and black voters by discouraging them to exercise their vote. Sister Faye is a bit battle weary cause we arent supporting her the way she needs us to. So Im sharing her cause with as many forward thinking people as I know.http://startsomegood.com/Venture/cost_of_freedom_project/Campaigns/Show/cost_of_freedom_voter_id_app

It would be so wonderful to help spread the word and to donate to the cause of creating that app! We need there to be “an app for that” facilitating getting the proper ID for voting. There’s only 20 days left. Thanks sister!

Does anyone remember the role and film for which Sidney Poitier received an Oscar? Does anyone remember Spike Lee’s “Malcolm X”? Instead of a diatribe about an actor’s choices, how about some scripts, directors and executive producers they can sink their creative teeth into AND earn a living?